


Winter Chills

by pyrogirl2000



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Natasha is kinda Stiles aunt, Phil Coulson is Stiles Stilinski's Uncle, Sheriff Stilinski's A+ Parenting, Stiles Stilinski Needs a Hug, Stiles needs some bombass therapy, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2020-12-16 13:40:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21037118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrogirl2000/pseuds/pyrogirl2000
Summary: The Avengers find someone in the lower level of a Hydra facility, someone that should be there. Memories forgotten will be remembered, and a family will be woven.





	1. Chapter 1

**Asset**

Faint pops gently made their way through the air, gradually increases in volume as the minutes ticked by. _It’s gunfire_, the Asset thought faintly as he stared at the cement wall that stood steadily in front of him. With each round of gunfire that approached his cell, a part of him twitched.

A finger. A wrist. A shoulder. An eye.

His eyes slowly scrunched shut as pain started to build behind his eyes. The Asset could not understand why it was feeling pain, as it had not made harsh physical contact with anything or anyone in weeks. Any contact really. He started to curl forward, his arms wrapping around his waist.

Suddenly the room shook, and the door blasted inward. The Asset whipped his head up to see the now wide-open entrance to his cell, his eyes wide.

**Captain America**

Steve slipped into the room through the doorway that Stark had just blown open. It was a cement room like most of the room in the facility but there was no paint or decoration of any kind. His eyes settled on the only thing in the room that had any relevance.

It was a man, no, it was a kid. A teenager. The kid had pale skin and moles littered what skin that Steve could see. His hair was brown and long enough to reach his shoulders. The teen was wearing a black t-shirt and black sweatpants. _Why would Hydra have a teenager held captive in their facility?_ He lowered his shield and decided on his course of action. “I’ve got a kid down here,” he spoke into the comm link to the rest of the Avengers, “He is in a cell in the lower level.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Cap? He could be dangerous, especially if Hydra was keeping him locked up.” Romanoff replied. Steve neglected to reply as he noticed that the kid was also looking at him.

He slowly approached the wide-eyed young man, slowly raising his hands to show that he meant no harm but keeping himself mentally prepared if the kid attacked. He stopped a few feet away from the cement bench the teen was sitting on.

“Hey there, are you alright? My names Steve, and my friends and I are here to help, okay? What’s you name?” he questioned.

Nothing but silence was heard as the kid continued to just stare at him with those wide, brown, doe eyes. Then he heard the clink of metal in concrete entering the room behind him, and the kid’s eyes shot to the doorway and his eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of the red and gold of Stark’s suit.

“What you like the red, white, and blue but discriminate against a better, and more original color combo? Someone is definitely an American.” Stark joked and the boy tensed up as if getting ready to fight.

The buzz of the millionaires suit gearing up to fight came from behind him, and right when Steve thought that he was going to have to fight the kid or at least calm him down before a fight could start, the boy winced and hunched over gripping at his head.

The young man gave a pained grunt and curled in tight to himself, as he was trying to protect himself from the pain, to make it stop. Concerned, Steve rushed forward and gently placed his hands on the teens shoulders and seeing that the teen seemed to be in too much pain to acknowledge him, shifted his grip to pick him up bridal style, cradled to his chest. He vaguely heard the suit powering down from combat mode.

“We need to get him to the hospital.” Steve stated.

Tony retracted the face plate and eyed the kid, “Or maybe he needs a psychiatric facility? Who would want to fight me? Even if he is a part of Hydra, why fight me when the mortal enemy of your organization is already in front of you?” Steve sighed, and if his hands weren’t full, he would’ve been rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Tony.”

“Alright, alright. Cap knows best, right? Let’s blow this popsicle stand, S.H.I.E.L.D. can handle it from here anyways.” Tony relented. Then he said into the comm link, “Hey, prepare for lift off, bird-boy. The rest of you, get to the Quinn jet.” Affirmations came from the rest of the team as they started to head up the stairs to get to ground level. The kid still seemed to be in pain, but Steve couldn’t see anything that would suggest why, but he carried on nevertheless and finally they reached the Quinn jet just after the others.

“Where to, Captain?” Barton asked as he closed the entrance of the Quinn jet and started the engines.

“He needs medical attention, but because we found him in a Hydra base, we are going to have to leave him with S.H.I.E.L.D. medical.” Steve stated as he gently laid the boy on the med bed in the Quinn jet.

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Barton smirked.

Bruce approached Steve, “I could take a look at him to see if there is anything I can help with until we get him to a proper medical team.” He offered.

Steve nodded with gratitude and stepped back a little for Bruce to kneel next to the boy but kept close enough so that if the kid started to freak out, he would be there. He noticed that Natasha had taken a seat but was sitting on the edge of her seat and keeping focused on the boy that lay curled up in pain. Steve glanced around the rest of the room. Thor while casting a curious glance seemed to not be too concerned with the presence of the boy and continued to chat with Barton. Barton was focused on piloting the jet and there for didn’t put much attention on the new face on board. Tony had put away the suit for now and was busy doing something on his tablet. Sam was still in the process of taking off and stowing away his own gear.

He turned his gaze back to Bruce and the kid. His eyes widened once he realized the kid was unconscious.

“Is he...!” Steve started.

“He seems to have passed out, but his pulse is strong so I wouldn’t be quite worried yet.” Bruce placated him. Steve sighed with relief and wiped his face with his hand. He sat down across from the brunette teen and leaned his elbows on his knees, watching the kid as he lay on the med bed. Dread weighed down his shoulders as he took the time to really look the kid over. He couldn’t be more than 20 years old, but scars littered the boy’s arms. Scars that Steve recognized as caused in fights, but also scars that were around his wrist that came with being tied up forcefully. The fact that this teen, who should be happy and having fun with his friends or family somewhere, was being held captive in a Hydra facility having god knows what done to him… it hurt to think about.

The entire flight to D.C., Steve never looked away from the kid, because he reminded him so much of Bucky.

**Asset**

The last he remembered was the pain in his head as flashes came and went behind his eyelids, arms carrying him, and the warmth of someone that felt safe. But as the asset slowly awoke, mind slow for the moment and body aching, he couldn’t remember what the images were, but he knew that they were important. A mission? No. Something else…

His eyes opened slowly, the bright lights above him momentarily blinding him. Lolling his head to the side noticing white walls, a heart and EKG monitor, an IV with a line leading to him… The asset blinked as the fog lifted from his mind and he shot up from his reclined position.

_This… this was not the facility. _The facility had concrete walls and tiled floors in the infirmary. There were no windows in there, but the view of the city that the asset had, spoke to the fact that there was a window in this room. He stood from the bed slowly and removed the IV and monitor connectors from his person as he approached the window.

Blue skies, white clouds, grey building, reflective building, buildings of all sorts of colors and shapes side by side lay for his eyes to observe. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a city, or if he had ever seen a city so big. He was marveled by the sight.

The click of the doorknob turning startled him, and he whipped around arms lifting and hands curling into loose fists, ready to fight the perceived threat. The nurse that had just entered glanced up and froze at the sight of him, and his hands lowered slightly seeing her and watching as she slowly backed right back out of the room. He blinked and them lowered his fists completely.

The Asset heard the lock on the door engage and his eyes narrowed, hospitals doors aren’t supposed to have locks on the doors. _Why did he know that?_ He shook his head and eyed the door before determining that it was too strong to try and break open, turning to the window he realized that it was not designed to open. He glanced down and noted that he was probably on the 6th floor. It was high, but doable.

Using the sheet from the bed, he wrapped his hand and then punched the glass, and while it did crack it did not break. _Bullet proof windows then, definitely not a hospital._ A second and third punch were delivered, and the window finally broke on the third.

As he removed the sheet from his hand, he heard a yell from beyond the door and running footsteps. Realizing that time for an escape was running out he hopped onto the window sill and prepared himself to jump just as the door burst open.

He looked over his shoulder at the intruder and then froze. It was a man and a woman, the woman he didn’t recognize but he did recognize the man. The man was the one that took him from the cell, the one that… helped him? This time though, he wasn’t wearing the American flag get-up, instead he was wearing a white shirt that seemed to be struggling to not rip as it covered the plains of his chest and some jeans. The red headed woman he didn’t recognize, though he felt a niggle in the back of his mind that said, _yes, yes you do know her._

The man’s hands raised, to show that he meant no harm, and he spoke.

“Woah there, it’s okay. Your safe here. Just step off the ledge, okay? There is no need to do anything extreme.” The Asset could tell that the blonde was trying to speak as soothingly as possible, but he didn’t understand why. Then a scene sprouted from his mind, a woman standing on a ledge and a man in a police uniform trying to coax her away from it, and the feeling of hurt and rejection filled his chest at the memory.

_Wait…_

_Memory?_

And as he returned to the present, he saw another man with short hair and a suit on enter the room, and with no thought whatsoever his mouth opened.

“Uncle Phil?” he croaked.

“Mieczyslaw…” Phil breathed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Steve**

Once the nurses had taken the kid away to treat him, Steve turned around and looked at what members of his team had followed him down to the med bay of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters (which had been rebuilt not 3 months ago). Natasha was looking past at where the nurses had taken the kid with a far off look in her eyes. Clint, Sam, and Bruce had followed him as well, though they were watching Steve.

“You guys should head back to New York; I’m going to stay here to make sure the kid is going to be alright.” Steve stated. The others looked at each other for a moment, and then back to him.

“I don’t know about you, Cap, but these chairs over here are looking mighty comfy right now.” Sam replied and Steve gave him a small smile.

“Tony and Thor already left, and I got some evil paperwork to handle anyway. Might as well stick around for a while anyways, yeah?” Clint grinned before turning on his heel and heading back to the elevator to Coulson’s office.

Natasha barely glanced at him before saying, “I’m staying here.”

Steve turned to look and Bruce to see what he had to say, and he got was a shrug from him. They all sat down to wait to hear about the kid’s condition. They had only been waiting for 20 minutes when the elevator doors opened to reveal a confused Clint and a frantic looking Coulson. Steve stood up to greet them and ask what was wrong when Phil’s eyes latched on to him then quickly made his way to Steve managing to still be considered walking.

“Where is the teenager you found?!” Phil demanded.

“What...?” Steve started.

“They took him back to evaluate and treat any injury’s he might have had.” Natasha interrupted. Steve turned to look at her with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. _Why does it look like she was expecting him?_

“He was injured?!” Phil exclaimed with worry starting to practically leak from his person, causing Clint to back away from him a like eyeing him like a bomb.

“Nothing serious as far as I could see, though he did pass out during the flight here.” She responded not even looking confused like the rest of them were.

“Wait, do you know this kid?” Sam questioned, surprised.

Phil and Natasha looked at him and then back to each other as if contemplating the answer.

Bruce raised an eyebrow and stated, “I’ll take that as a yes. On both your parts.” Phil seemed to pierce his lips together as an uncomfortable look crossed his face. Then he sighed and rubbed his face with his hand before replying.

“Yes. He’s my nephew.” Steve’s eyebrows shot up, as if trying to meet his hair line.

“You have family?” Clint questioned, astonished at the mere thought, “I didn’t think you had any siblings.”

“I don’t, at least not anymore. My sister died of frontal temporal dementia about ten years ago.” Phil answered causing everyone except Natasha to wince.

“What was your nephew doing at a Hydra facility? Were they going to try and use him as leverage against you?” Sam asked curiously, but softly knowing that it could be a sensitive topic for Phil.

“I don’t know, and that’s the problem. Last I knew, he was still safe back in Beacon Hills, California where his dad is the local sheriff.” Phil growled, not anger at anyone there but angry that he hadn’t known that his nephew was missing or in danger.

“Phil…”, Bruce started but was interrupted by a nurse rushing out of the back area.

“Security!” She called out and the security officer on duty started to head to her, but Phil cut him off.

“What’s going on?” He demanded.

“The teenager that came in with Captain America is awake, but we sedated him only 20 minutes ago! He shouldn’t be up! And when I entered the room, he seemed prepared to fight! We need to sedate him again.” She rambled to him.

“What room?” Steve asked.

“Room 7.” She replied quickly.

Steve rushed of to the back half of the med bay to get to the room and try and calm the kid down. Natasha followed him right on his heels and Phil wasn’t far behind. Once unlocking the door, both Natasha and Steve burst through the doorway to see the kid standing on the ledge of the window, shards of glass from the broken window lay on the floor and no doubt some had found their way into the teen’s bare feet. Phil’s nephew looked at them from over his shoulder, recognition flashing through his eyes when seeing Steve and a little confusion settling in his gaze as he eyed Natasha.

Steve raised his hands to seem as nonthreatening as possible, and then spoke softly so as to not startle the young man standing on the ledge. “Woah there, it’s okay. Your safe here. Just step off the ledge, okay? There is no need to do anything extreme.” The boy’s eyes looked confused for a second before they seemed to glaze over a little, he wobbled a little where he stood on the ledge and Steve nearly shot forward to pull him away from the edge, but the fog in the brunettes honey eyes disappeared as near silent foot steps sounded to Steve’s left.

Honey eyes widened as they focused to Steve’s left and Steve glanced to his left to see Phil standing in between him and Natasha now.

“Uncle Phil?” the teen croaked.

“Mieczyslaw…” Phil breathed out.

**Phil**

Seeing his nephew standing on the ledge filled Phil’s heart with fear as he watched. The drop out of that window was 6 stories, enough to severely injure or even kill. Phil took a step forward and opened his arms to his only living family member. Mieczyslaw looked confused for a second and it made Phil worry even more about what they had done to his nephew so that he would barely recognize him. The teen seemed to have an internal battle before he eased of the ledge and onto the glass laden floor of the room.

Phil couldn’t help the tears in his eyes as he realized that while Mieczyslaw didn’t seem to completely recognize him, a part of him still trusted his uncle. Slowly he approached him and when Phil wasn’t met with a negative reaction, he slowly guided his nephew away from the shards of glass and to the bed in the middle of the room.

As the teen sat on the edge of the bed, he looked up into Phil’s eyes and asked, “That… that’s my… name?”

Phil blinked, confused for only a moment at the question before a sad smile drifted onto his face and he answered.

“Yes, Mieczyslaw is your name. You were named after you great grandfather on your father’s side.” His nephews head tilted to the side as his eyes seemed to sharpen.

“Your brother?” The younger inquired.

“Brother-in-law.” Phil corrected as he pulled up a stool to sit on in front of the brunette teen.

“My mother was your sister then… is your sister? No, was…” Mischief looked confused and looked at his lap and then back to Phil. The older man nodded slowly, old grief covering his face.

“Was. She died about ten years ago.” He affirmed. Mischief only blinked at that, his mind not quite making the emotional connections that he had had.

Steve and Natasha still stood in the entrance way to the room watching the entire interaction between them. Natasha slowly backed out, most likely to find someone to clean up the mess of glass that remained on the floor.

“Where am I?” Mischief asked his uncle. Phil opened his mouth to respond but he was cut off by his nephew. “I know it’s not a hospital. Hospitals don’t have locks on the doors to patient rooms, nor do they have bullet proof glass windows.” Silence cast over the room.

**Steve**

Looking at the glass on the floor and then at the kid realization sprang into Steve’s mind.

“You broke the glass.” Steve said slowly. Both other men in the room turned to look at him.

“I didn’t hurt myself, if that is what you are worried about.” Mischief supplied, confused. At that Phil turned and looked at the glass and then the kid realization arising in his eyes as well.

“Mieczyslaw, how did you break the window?” Phil questioned worry on his face, but his eyes held fear. Not fear of his nephew, a fear for his nephew.

The teen looked back and forth between them and replied, “I wrapped my hand in the sheets and broke it… I thought that I was being tested, was I not supposed to break the glass?”

Phil’s eyes clenched close and he leaned forward elbows resting on his knees, and hands cradling his face. Steve while concerned with what it meant that the kid could break through a bullet proof window, was startled at the mention of something else.

“Test? What do you mean test?” Steve practically demanded.

“The…” the teen paused and seemed to think for a moment and then continued, “men from the base, they would send me places, to do things, to test me.” He seemed to hesitate before continuing, looking down to his lap and watching his fingers clench and unclench around each other. “They made me do… bad… things. They made me hurt people, and I… I didn’t want to! But if I didn’t, they would…” A confused look came over his face as if the words were on the tip of his tongue yet still inaccessible. The kids breathe started to hitch as if he could catch his breath and Steve realized that the teen was having a panic attack.

Steve rushed forward and gently grabbed the kid’s face to make him look at him. “Hey, hey. Look at me. It’s alright. Breathe with me okay? In…out….in…out.” Steve kept on repeated that and remained in contact with the kid as he slowly calmed down, Phil had one of the brunette’s hands in his. Slowly the panic abated, and the teen calmed down, exhausted after the attack.

Steve saw Natasha out of the corner of his eye in the doorway to the room with Clint and Sam right behind her watching the scene in front of them. Both men seemed concerned for Phil’s nephew, and while Natasha seemed as stoic as ever to other people, Steve could see a glint of worry in her eyes as they rested on the tired teen.

The exhaustion of the panic attack settled, and the kid’s eyes drooped, and Phil and Steve slowly laid him on the bed and he slowly fell into a fitful sleep, his grasp in Phil’s hand loosening. Slowly the adults slipped out of the room and into the hallway. Phil looked at the nurse that stood in the hallway with them.

“Get someone in there to get rid of the glass shards and replace the window.” He ordered, and the nurse hurried away to comply.

“Phil,” Natasha started making them all turn to her, “The doctor did a blood test when Mieczyslaw came in, and he just got the results back.” Her stoic look faded into one of sorrow blended with pain.

“What is it?” Steve asked.

“They found traces of super serum. A similar kind to what was found in Barnes.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Phil**

“Not the same?” Phil asked Natasha at her reveal.

She shook her head, “There was some minor differences. The lab is going to review it more to see if they can find out why it was different.” Phil heaved a sigh, _what did they do to his nephew?_

“Can we trust them with that?” Sam suddenly questioned from off to the side.

“What do you mean?” Steve inquired right back.

“I mean, not even 3 months ago did we rid S.H.I.E.L.D. of it’s Hydra infestation. We did a pretty good job at getting rid of them, but now knowing that Sheildra was a thing since almost the beginning of S.H.I.E.L.D. I just don’t know if I would be willing to trust them with someone who they could manipulate to do their dirty work for them.” Sam explained.

“Aren’t you a therapist? Shouldn’t you be the first person to be against suspicion of our allies?” Clint asked from the side practically leering at Sam.

“Unless you already have reasonable suspicion, such as evidence that it has happened in the past and could happen again!” Sam exclaimed right back at him.

“Are you implying that I would allow another organization use S.H.I.E.L.D. like a puppet again, Mr. Wilson?” Fury suddenly rumbled from behind the group, appearing as silent as a midnight fog.

“I am not saying that you would let it happen, but it could happen with out you knowing, just like with Sheildra.” Sam argued. Fury gave him a deadpan look.

“While I don’t agree with that, I do agree that he shouldn’t stay here.” Fury stated, eyes slowly moving off Sam and onto the rest of the group before resting on Phil. “He may be your nephew, but he is also a super soldier now, we don’t have the kind of personnel capable of beating him in a struggle without severely harming him. It would be best if you took him with you to Avengers Tower and handled him there, with Agent Coulson to supervise of course.”

“You just want Stark to pay for any damages he causes.” Clint accused with a smirk causing Fury to glare at him for a moment.

“I am sure you can handle his care, Dr. Banner.” The S.H.I.E.L.D. director stated, and when seeing Bruce nod, he left with no preamble.

“So… who is going to let Stark know?” Clint asked looking around the group. Natasha settled her heavy gaze on Clint before answering.

“I sent a text to Pepper already, she will let Stark, Thor, Rhodes, and Barnes know of the change of plan.”

“When did you have time to do that?” Clint questioned, baffled.

“No matter, that means that we have to get him to New York now.” Steve interrupted before turning to Phil, “Should be let him sleep through the ride or should we wake him, so he isn’t startled?”

Phil took a moment to think. “Mieczyslaw has always been one to panic a little in unfamiliar circumstances. It would probably be best to wake him for the flight.” The rest of the group nodded in agreement.

“I’ll prep the Quinn jet.” Clint offered before turning on his heel and heading out.

“I’ll get what medical information the staff might have on that I might need.” Bruce informed before he also retreated.

“I’ll head up to the jet, I don’t want to freak the kid out with any new faces right now.” Sam said.

Phil looked to Steve and Natasha with a sigh, “Well, we best get this done now,” he resigned. With a nod from each of the others that remained, they entered the room yet again. The two Avengers lingered in the doorway as Phil approached his still sleeping nephew. Gently, Phil placed his hand on his shoulder, but a hand whipped out wrapped around his wrist and he froze. Following the hand, he realized that it was Mieczyslaw’s hand, and that his nephew was staring at him with panic glazing his eyes. The grip was tight, tighter than someone of Mieczyslaw’s stature and build should be able to produce, a definite sign of the serum that now was a part of the teen.

“Mieczyslaw, It’s okay. It’s me, Uncle Phil.” Phil tried to calm him, but it didn’t appear to be enough. So with a firm voice, Phil called out a nickname he hadn’t spoken since his sister had passed.

“Mischief!”

**Mischief**

“Mischief!” He snapped back into the forefront of his mind as the name was called. He blinked his eyes to clear them, and before him he saw a man, _Uncle Phil,_ watching him with concern. He then realized that his hand was wrapped around something and he looked down to see what must have been his painfully strong grip on his only uncle’s wrist. Mischief released it as if it had burned him. Apologies rose up in his throat and when the teen looked at his uncle the came spewing out through his mouth.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I-,” His uncle interrupted him at this point.

“It’s okay. I’m fine, don’t worry about it. Calm down Mieczyslaw, calm down.” Slowly Mischiefs breathing slowed and he calmed slightly. “I’m sorry I woke you up, but we need to get going.” Phil expressed to him.

Mischief frowned, and a question burbled up his throat and spewed out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “Where are we going?” But instead of being mad or annoyed like the doctors and men from the base, the middle-aged man smiled at him softly before answering.

“We’re heading to New York. Stark tower to be specific.”

“Actually,” the red head interrupts from the doorway, “the press, and therefore now the public too, is calling Avengers tower because we all have practically made it our permanent place of residence.”

The teen’s head turned to look at her and he felt this niggle is his mind that he knew her, from somewhere. He stared at her a moment, and she looked back. When she raised an eyebrow in question, he looked away and eyed the All-American hero that stood by her. The blonde-haired man was watching him worryingly, like something could happen any moment. The brunette turned back to look at his uncle and then spoke, “Well, what are we waiting for?”

Phil gave a chuckle at that and backed away slightly to give Mischief room to stand. He moved over to a nightstand against the wall next to another door and opened the bottom drawer. The older man pulled out some slipper like shoes and brought them to the teen.

Mischief slipped them on and followed his uncle out of the room, the other two that were in the door way moving aside so that they walked in between them to exit the room. The two avengers trailed after them as they walked the halls and out into what looked like a clinic waiting area.

“Where are we?” Mischief asked.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.” Phil informed him as they continued to the elevator.

**Steve**

“S.H.I.E.L.D.?” the teen asked before his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. They entered the elevator and Phil pressed the button for the roof. All three of the adults turned to look at him and Phil opened his mouth to explain but the brunette started first.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. is good… No, S.H.I.E.L.D. is them.” He started to look alarmed, he looked at Phil, then Natasha, before resting on Steve as disbelief and panic entered his eyes. The look put all of them on edge and just as Steve was going to start trying to calm him down, the kid backed away from them and into a corner of the elevator. “No, no, no. It was a lie. You lied!” the teen cried out looking at his uncle in horror.

Phil looked concerned as he reached forward, Natasha reached out and stopped him from making physical contact with his nephew. Steve was confused as to why for a moment, but then he recognized what was happening.

“This is a test! I failed, I failed, I failed…” The kid was practically sobbing by now and his breathing was getting erratic.

He was having a panic attack.

“Hey, woah, calm down. Yes, S.H.I.E.L.D. was infiltrated by Hydra for a while, a long while, but not anymore. This isn’t a test; we just want to help. So, you need to calm down and breath, kid.” Steve explained, crouching down onto the floor of the elevator. “Breath with me kid, can you do that?” The former WWII soldier started to exaggerate his breathing as he tried to maintain eye contact with the teen.

Slowly the panic started to fade form the teen’s eyes and his breathing started to slow and regulate. Phil slowly crept forward and knelt on the floor next to where his nephew had practically collapsed during the panic attack. He pulled the shaken young man into his arms and firmly held him against his chest for a long moment. The older man then pulled back slightly and rested his hands on the teen’s shoulders, and gazed right into his nephew’s eyes.

“I know you don’t remember much right now, and I know that a lot has happened, but I want to always know that I would never do anything to hurt you purposefully. I will do what ever it takes to keep you safe from here on out, okay?” Phil declared.

“Okay,” Mischief whispered with a nod.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened to the wide expanse of the roof. Steve reached over and helped the kid up while Natasha helped Phil up as well. They exited the elevator and made their way across the concrete to the quinn jet.

The corners of Steve’s lips pulled up when he saw the way the kid practically ogled the interior of the jet. Clint gave a wave from the pilots seat as they found their own seats.

“I would say buckle up, but that’s a little too cliché, even for my tastes.” He comically stated before closing the hatch and beginning to lift off. “We should be back in New York in an less than an hour.” He called back as they ascended into the clouds that hovered over D.C.

**Phil**

Silence descended on the room as they all sat quietly. Phil took the time to think to himself, as the others did.

The panic attack should have been expected, he knew that his Mieczyslaw had a history even before his sister’s death. The teen seemed to be slowly remembering some stuff, but it’s was still at a very slow rate. They would have to see if they could find the reason for his amnesia and if it could be helped.

What worried him even more, was the fact Mieczyslaw must have been in Hydras captivity for at least a couple of months for some of the things he noticed. Which means that he had to have been missing from Beacon Hill’s during that time. Yet, he hadn’t received any word from John that his nephew was missing.

Why wouldn’t he tell him that Mieczyslaw was missing? He hadn’t received any news of John dying, and that just left so many questions in his mind. One thought rang bright and true though, if John wasn’t dead yet, Phil might just do the job himself if he knew about Mieczyslaw missing and decided to not tell Phil about it.

Phil was on a war path, one to protect the only member of his family left, and no one would stop him from raining hell on those that had hurt his nephew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a bit longer to post! School and work keep me pretty busy as is, but here is the 3rd chapter for now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Mischief**

The ride was quiet, and he was grateful that. The panic attack had left his head feeling a little fuzzy, so he would rather not have to focus enough to hold a full conversation. Uncle Phil was quiet, but he radiated a seething anger that would have out Mischief on edge if he was in the state of mind to consider doing so. He was tired even though he had had that nap earlier, so he let his eyes slid shut and let his ears be his tell him what was happening.

Mischief could hear the surprisingly quiet buzz of the engine of the jet, the quiet creaking of Hawkeye turning the steering control, the near silent steps of the red headed woman as she headed to the co-pilot seat, the forcibly controlled breathes of his uncle next to him. He just let himself sit there and listen as they made their way up the east coast towards Manhattan.

The teen was startled out of the near trance by the sudden sound of cloth shifting all around him, and his eyes opened to the interior of the jet once again. The others aboard the jet were getting up and getting ready to head out, and he looked to his uncle in a questioning manner.

"We've arrived at Stark tower, are you ready to head in?" The middle-aged man informed. Mischief nodded and slower grabbed the hand that his uncle offered to him before standing. They exited the aircraft, and he found himself standing on the roof with a landing zone. When he looked beyond the edge as they walked to the door, he saw other buildings, tall ones, just not as tall as Stark tower. All seven of them filed through the doorway and down a short hall to where an elevator sat, doors already open as if it knew they were coming.

He followed them into the metal death trap wearily and watched as the doors slid shut before him and then felt as they began to descend.

"Welcome back, it has been a while Mr. Coulson." As voice monotonaly called from the speakers of the elevator. Mischief's eyes went wide and he tensed before he turned to look at his uncle.

"Who is that?" He demanded swiftly. His uncle gave him a placating look while the others gave a quick chuckle.

"My designation is JARVIS. I am the AI system Mr. Stark build to help him in his everyday endeavors." Came from the voice that surrounded him. Mischief blinked slowly and forcibly untensed.

"...Nice to...meet you, JARVIS." The teen responded.

"And you as well, Mr. Stilinski." The somehow British accented AI responded before silence flooded the slowly descending elevator.

Mischief stared ahead at the doors, trying to ignore the fact that he felt eyes on himself. He watched as the doors glided open and the others started to slip out the elevator. He was frozen in place until his uncle placed a hand on his forearm, spurring him into forward movement. It was a big room with no separation walls, most of the outer walls consisted of windows. There was a large TV to the left of the room and a few couches over there as well. Everyone seemed to be settling in as they spread out across the room, some of them greeting others that Mischief didn't recognize. He caught a glint of silver-grey in the corner of his eye. He turned his head to find out what it was and...

Everything went black.

* * *

When Stiles awoke, he was being held down by the five point system of restraint in a white medical bed in what looked like an infirmary. The more awake he grew, the more the panic started to arise from within. A whimper broke through his throat as his breathing grew ragged with the impending panic attack. He closed his eyes to stop the tears coming to his eyes as his limbs started to jerk in hopes of getting rid of the restraints.

The tears finally made their trek down his cheeks as the word "No" came burbling out of his mouth at a near constant pace. The panic pushed Stiles under like a tidal wave and the last thing he felt before he went under was a prick in his neck.

* * *

This time, when he awoke there was no restraints on him anymore, but his mind still felt a little foggy. Slowly he turned his head to look to his left side, and his gaze landed on his uncle that was watching him back. Stiles then noticed that his uncle was holding his left hand, his hand twitched suddenly around the hand when he made the realization. Uncle Phil's hand tightened around his as he realized that Stiles was not just conscious but... the most him that he had been in months.

**Phil**

Phil watched his nephew come back to the world, calmly this time unlike the nightmarish horror that had happened the last time. As he watched his only nephew come to himself, he looked into his eyes and he realized that Mieczyslaw had recognized the moment he saw him, that he didn't seem scared or worried; And that was the closest Phil had seen Mieczyslaw to being himself since they had found him in that HYDRA Facility.

They looked at each other for a moment before Mieczyslaw started to speak.

"What...happened?" He asked, seeming unsure of himself.

"What's the last thing that you remember, Mieczyslaw?" Phil softly asked his nephew. He took a moment to think before replying.

"We got to Stark tower, we went down a few levels in the elevator and entered a... common room? It had a TV and some couches..." He paused for but a moment and then continued, "and then nothing." Phil nodded before sighing and leaning back in his chair, letting his gaze reach the ceiling.

"One moment you were fine and then the next you lunged at Barnes who had been at the counter in the kitchen area of the common floor. You went after him like you had the intent to kill and he blocked most of the attacks, but you got pretty close towards the end, but Captain Rogers stepped in and helped restrain you so we could sedate you. It was... It was like you were possessed." At the last word, Mieczyslaw shuddered and pulled in a shuttering breath, to Phil's concern which caused him to look back down to his nephew who had his eyes firmly looking as the blanket that lay over his legs.

"Did I... hurt anyone?" He quietly asked his uncle, looking younger and more fragile than Phil had seen him in years.

"No." Phil answered firmly. "Barnes didn't even have a bruise on him by the time it was over and you didn't seem to see Steve coming." Stiles pulled his hand out of his uncles and gripped the blanket tightly. Phil could already see the guilt forming in his nephews face and tried to put a stop to it.

"Hey, no. That wasn't you Mieczyslaw. You wouldn't hurt anyone like that. We know it has something to do with why HYDRA was holding you at that facility. Barnes doesn't even blame you at all. He knows it wasn't you."

"You don't know the things I've had to do." Stiles answered dully.

"Whatever they made you do doesn't matter. You didn't want to do it." Phil asserted, but then blanched when his nephew shook his head and looked him dead in the eyes.

"You don't know what you're talking about." He said before sitting up and throwing his legs over the edge of the medbay bed. Phil was stunned for a moment before he got up to follow his nephew.

"The sedative we gave you earlier may not be worn off completely yet, you should sit down." Phil called out after his nephew.

"I feel fine." Mieczyslaw replied smoothly as he sat to pull on his shoes that they had taken off when they had put him the bed.

"Then do you care to explain why we had to sedate you after you woke up?" Phil demanded a little agitated that Mischief wasn't resting like he should be.

The younger stood swiftly and turned to head out of the medbay. "Not really," he called back as he proceeded, "after all I don't actually know why. Just don't restrain me again and we'll be fine." He stated as he hit the elevator button before turning to face his uncle.

His nephew’s attitude was throwing Phil off, but he still felt like hitting someone because someone had to have made his nephew react like that to restraints.

"...Okay. Maybe you shouldn't see Barnes anytime soon then. We don't know why you reacted like that quite yet but until we do it would be for the best to not need the restraints." Phil gave him.

The doors to the elevator and as Mieczyslaw turned to enter Phil looked into the elevator to find that it already had an occupant, the exact one that shouldn't be seen by newest and youngest temporary resident of the tower.

Barnes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Phil**

The agent in Phil forced him to lunge forwards to restrain his nephew, but as his arms wrapped around the younger and he felt no struggle he realized that Mieczyslaw had frozen looking at Barnes but not yet making a move. The former winter soldier's eyes had widened when he realized who he had run in to as well, but he didn't make a move and just stood there staring back at the teen. It took a moment before the youngest started to get the gears in his head grinding again and he turned his head to look at his uncle and said in a joking tone, "Come on Uncle Phil, your embarrassing me in front of an Avenger."

He looked at the situation, of how he was holding his nephew and how he hadn't seemed to have had a violent reaction to Barnes and was confused for a moment before slowly letting go. He watched as his nephew got into the elevator and beckoned him to do the same.

**Stiles**

When his eyes had laid on Barnes, for a moment something had reared in the unconscious part of his mind, but he was more in control this time around and he shoved it back down into the depths from which it came. He joked a little to calm his uncle before stepping into the elevator next to Barnes, who was watching him like a ticking-time-bomb. He turned and gave the former HYDRA assassin a nervous smile before turning to watch as his uncle finally stepped into the elevator.

The silence was suffocating for Stiles, but it gave him time to get a feel of his condition. His head hurt, a lot, but he had felt worse. His arms were a little sore and thinks that he had a bruise on his shoulder but otherwise there was nothing notable.

More was coming back to him though, about his life before, his family, Scott, Beacon Hills. Little bits of information seemed to take shape and find its place in Stiles' mind. The more he remembered though, the worse his head, and heart, hurt. He had good memories yes, but there seemed to be a lot of bad ones as well. Made him wonder why he would want to remember in the first place.

The doors to the elevator opened suddenly, but nobody made a move to leave. Barnes was eyeing him cautiously from one side and his uncle was doing the same on the other. Pointedly not looking at either, Stiles stepped out of the elevator and into a common room of sorts. It was the room he remembered from before his blackout. The blonde man that had taken him from the facility was in the kitchen and there was another, shorter, blonde sitting across the room on one of the couches messing around on his phone. There was one other person in the room, on a different couch than the shorter blonde, but Stiles recognized this man.

"Tony Stark," He said almost breathlessly. The teen heard the two in the elevator slowly slip out behind him. He saw Barnes heading to the kitchen from the corner of his eye, and felt his uncle come up next to him on his left. His words alerted everyone else in the room that someone new was there. They all turned and at the moment of seeing him they became tense and the blonde on the couch even stood up from where he had been seated. Stark looked up at him yet unlike the others, he didn't seem tense he gave a small smirk and reclined into the sofa behind him.

"I must say that I am quite proud of the fact that you remember me even though you have amnesia." Tony practically gloated.

Stiles took a moment to let that sink in before replying. "I'm not a heathen, you own one of the largest tech companies in the world and you're one of the richest people in North America as well."

At that, the blonde that was on the couch perked up and asked, “Your starting to remember stuff?” Stiles gave a shrug at that and made a beeline for an armchair near Stark.

“Maybe? I don’t know somethings just pop up in my mind, like when I recognized Uncle Phil.”

The armchair that Stiles had chosen was facing the entire room and he could see everyone in the room from his spot, and for some unknown, as usual, reason he relaxed a bit at that.

“That’s good. Do you remember anything about before Hydra got a hold on you?” Bucky gently requested from his place at the kitchen bar that separated the sitting room and the kitchen. The teen grew a little uncomfortable at that and took a moment to think to himself. He doubted that they knew anything about… that. He felt kinda crazy because of the bits ands pieces that were presenting themselves in his mind, all out of order.

“Bits and pieces mostly, I remember Beacon Hills. I remember mom and dad, Scott, and a few others. It’s not a lot really.” He answered. The pain in his head was pounding, but he had become pretty use to pain at some point that he still didn’t remember so he didn’t let it show on his face. His uncle crouched in front of him, the look on his face told Stiles that some harder questions were about to come.

“Do you remember why Hydra had you? Or even how they got you? I didn’t even know you were missing until the team found you in that Hydra facility.” Let it be known that even though his father and uncle weren’t related by blood, they did have similarities. Like always asking the hard questions that Stiles doesn’t want to answer. But the elevator doors opened like God was finally on Stiles’ side for once.

As if that would ever happen.

Two people stepped out of the elevator, but his eyes were draw to a flash of bright red hair. The longer he stared the more something seemed to bubble up in his mind and he couldn’t help but feel that he knows that hair, that shade, and when he let his eyes slip down to see the face of the person that sported it the memory that had been so close suddenly sprung on to him like a lion on a gazelle.

The memory was hazy, old, and Stiles was much younger when it happened. He was visiting his uncle for the first time since his mother died, but his uncle still had to work and so Stiles had gone with him. The little brunette had wandered away from his uncle’s office in search of the restroom but had found himself hopelessly lost. The panic was just started to really form into a panic attack when he heard a voice call out to him.

“You lost, kid?” The slightly rough voice of a woman asked him, and he turned to look at her. Bright red hair stood out against the pale skin and black suit. The lady crouched down to be close to eye level to him, waiting for his response. Stiles gave a small nod to her and she held out her hand to him. Misunderstanding, he reached out and shook he hand awkwardly, and she gave a little smirk at that and asked he another question. “What’s your name, kid?”

And just as fast as the memory had jumped out at him, it receded back to the depths of his mind. As he took note of his surroundings once again, he realized everyone was looking at him again, and the snarky side that had been lost to him for months returned long enough to say, “What? I know I am pretty amazing, but staring is just weird, take a photo already, though it will never live up to the real thing.”

A short silence followed before Stark started to cackle and his uncle gave smile. The red headed woman gave a small smirk, and the other four people in the room just looked stunned.

“I don’t know how you two are related but I am so keeping the kid, Agent Agent!” Stark cried as he tried to stop laughing, gasping for breath.

His uncle shook his head, “He didn’t get that from me, that is all his mother right there.” It took a while for Stark to calm down before Uncle Phil looked at him again. “Are you alright? You were unresponsive for a couple minutes there.” Stiles gave a shrug.

“I was just remembering something.” Was all that he gave before turning his gaze back to the new pair in the room. He glanced over Nat and took a long moment to look over her companion. The man also seemed vaguely familiar, but not in the same way as Nat had. The man had tanned skin, likely from spending time in the sun or from Hispanic heritage, and somewhat messy curly black hair. He looked to be in his late 30’s maybe early 40’s. He also seemed to have a nervous disposition seeing as he got a little fidgety the longer Stiles regarded him. After watching the man fidget for a moment longer, Stiles decided to give mercy by waving at the man with a small smile.

“Hey, I’d introduce myself but I m pretty sure you know my name by now.” Stiles told the man which seemed to get the man to finally speak.

“Ah, yes, my names Bruce Banner, it’s nice to meet you.” Bruce introduced himself with a small smile.

Stiles gave genial smile to man as he thought to himself for a moment. Why did the name sound familiar? And as he racked his brain for the answer the smile was slowly replaced with a frown, causing the demure man to start to nervously fidget again.

_Banner… where had he heard that name before? Wait, he hadn’t heard the name, he had read it. What was it…?_

Suddenly Stiles remembered, the memory briefly causing the pain in his head to flash bright, and he snapped his fingers as an excited smile crossed his face.

“I remember now! Your Dr. Bruce Banner! You specialize in Gamma radiation!” To say the least, Stiles was quite proud of himself for remembering such a small detail. Bruce seemed to hesitate for a moment before nodding, but a look was resting on his face like he was expecting something else to be said. Silence lingered in the room for a few moments too long and the smile of Stiles face faded and looked around the room. “What?”

“I’m typically more well know for… something else, but if you don’t remember right now that’s alright.” Bruce placated. Stiles frowned for a moment longer before nodding his head.

“Sorry? I didn’t mean to upset you or anything.” The teen apologized.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bruce replied, shaking his head. “The other thing really isn’t a positive one, so it’s nice that that was the first thing that you remembered.”

“Well,” the blonde in the kitchen called, “I think it’s a good time as any to have some dinner, what do ya’ think?”


End file.
